Learning to Breathe

I'm sitting here on my bed with a clean page infront of me. I have written so many beginnings but noting says what I want to say. I'm restless. I want to move on. Going away was again a wake up call to me that I don't want to be stuck with the same old life. Evey move I make is helping me to decide which path I want to take but I'm still a long way off and I might have to start to take my steps quicker because my time is running out. Time always runs out. When I moved here, I never imagined college. I could never imagine being this old but I think that the younger me would be happy in how I'm turning out. And even when I started my secondary school, I looked up at the people in the uniform which I now wear and could never imagine a time where I'd be in there place. But the time has flown past but I don't regret how I spent it because I know that I have learned from each one of my mistakes. Well, except one. There's always one mistake that I never learn from: love. But I know that what I feel now isn't love. It's just a lust. I want something and the fact that I can't have it just makes me want it more. But I've made a promise to myself which I know that I'd break in the blink of an eye. And this worries me.